Blood Tipped Wings

Death watches a blood thirsty angel fight the wars of earth. and promises to wait for him...

Blood tipped wings
White to Crimson red
Singing blades under a blue tinged moon
I sit waiting for you...
Bodies strewn about-
Alive or dead
The just can be loud-
For what can be right...
To make one take a life?
Blood tipped wings
Gore cloaked armor
white to crimson red
Hear to pitiful cries of the dead...
Brother, sister, father-man.
This is my blood.
We belong hand in hand...
See the earth thirsting for blood?
This is a wrong that could have been undone.
Blood tipped wings
white to crimson red
singing blades under a blue tinged moon...
Here I sit waiting for you...

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Your description. Strong and wonderful. Create visions of blood, life and death and waiting. I enjoyed the complete poem. Made me wish to read more.
"Blood tipped wings
white to crimson red
singing blades under a blue tinged moon...
Here I sit waiting for you..."
The above lines were my favorite. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[annalysiar]

I know I honestly wanted to write more but nothing else came... But thanks I'm really glad that you likes it

[Coyote Poetry]

I did and you are welcome.

[MelissaAndres]

A sadness mixed with anger. Many emotions came to mind when I read this. Nice job.

[annalysiar]

Thank you I'm glad you liked it

[MelissaAndres]

You're welcome!

[icelandicblue]

I could not help but think of seraphs...they seem to enjoy their blood-tipped wings. I enjoyed your use of color in this poem.

[annalysiar]

Thank you I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was sort of thing of a seraph when I wrote this